


Systemic Reverberation

by Taste_of_Suburbia



Series: The Reverence Complex [3]
Category: Dark Angel
Genre: Action, Ames White grows a heart, Angst, Burns, Character Study, Dreams, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Lovers, Falling In Love, Fire, Fluff, Hospitals, Hurt Alec, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Kidnapping, M/M, Murder, Mutual Pining, Ok with these two its gonna take a while, On the Run, POV Multiple, Possessive Behavior, Post-Series, Protective Ames, Romance, Somewhat Resolved Romantic Tension, Stitches, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Violence, h/c_bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-18 18:23:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7325647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taste_of_Suburbia/pseuds/Taste_of_Suburbia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He took stock of the injuries within mere seconds: broken wrist, dislocated shoulder, broken ribs judging by the abrasions on the back, bullet in his head. Injuries save for the first that he hadn’t caused. </p><p>And the gun that Alec was holding was pointed at him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Systemic Reverberation

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for h/c_bingo Round 7 for the prompt ‘fire.’ 
> 
> **Warnings:** Language, Burns, Murder, Referenced Kidnapping, Referenced Abuse, Referenced Alcohol Abuse
> 
>  **Soundtrack:** Katatonia’s ‘Dissolving Bonds’
> 
>  **Series:** Part 3 of The Reverence Complex
> 
> [ **Reverberation**](http://www.oxforddictionaries.com/us/definition/american_english/reverberation) \- a prolonged sound, resonance, echo; the continuation of an effect, a repercussion

 

_~And here you are_

_So much time did you waste from times before_

_So shut down your sky, bow down, lights out and die_

_And now you go_

_The cold chill cracks, a positive self-detach_

_Inanimate heart, hurting razor throat~_

* * *

 

Careful consideration was taken as to how far and fast a quickly healing, though still _healing_ , Alec would be able to travel. Ames wasn’t much for carrying dead weight around, even less for carrying weight around period. He supposed he should at least blame himself for shooting Alec in the first place, as though gracing him with a bullet in the shoulder three and a half weeks before the whole transgenic run hostage _fiasco_ hadn’t been nearly enough.

Except shooting Alec had been a necessity to drag him away from those other freaks. The thing Ames just kept forgetting was that Alec _was_ one of those freaks, as if it slipped his attention entirely all the goddamn time, courtesy of not wanting to think about it. Or maybe it was because Ames didn’t want it to be the case, didn’t believe it to matter anymore.

There was no possible fucking _way_ he could have changed in such a short span of time.

He told himself as he slung the backpack - stuffed with a mishmash of wrinkled clothes, a first aid kit and other essentials - over his shoulder how resilient transgenics were, trained to push past all gnawing tendrils of pain and other forms of torment, but it was more about the fact that he knew _this_ transgenic was a goddamn _stubborn_ son of a bitch, and stubborn was one thing he most certainly couldn’t handle _today._

“Try to keep up,” he barked. Sure, the backpack wasn’t so heavy anymore since he’d used up the majority of his much-coveted supplies in the three weeks he’d been sitting on his ass and twiddling his thumbs, waiting for a chance to grab one of those _things._ And by one of them of course he meant _Alec_ all along, told himself to shut up if he even suggested otherwise. The least Ames White could do was not lie to himself, considering he had nothing left in the world.

Nothing but a bruised and bloody transgenic shot full of holes trudging behind him, Ames’ super heightened hearing picking up his grumbling.

Then again, the one thing the Familiar did have left was his anger, and no doubt that was what fueled him. He was angry at those damned transgenics for stealing Ray, his _son_ , for fucking up his life in ways not even he could have imagined. He was angry at the Conclave too for not carrying out their plan earlier. He was angry at himself for not killing Alec the numerous times that he had the chance, for not putting a bullet through his hollow skull right damn _now_. And he was furious at the whole goddamn world and everyone in it for tearing away his mission and his purpose, and for forcing him to wake up every morning nearly broke and hopeless and without a thing in the world but these _feelings_ toward Alec that should have been bitterness and disgust but were anything but.

Alec was just two steps behind, maneuvering through the trees and brushing away stray branches that got in his way, and Ames could hear his breathing, hurried puffs of air, and if that weren’t bad enough it was like he could feel the warmth and softness of his skin too. Under that torn, bloodstained white shirt there would be a toned chest that, while firm, would still give easily enough under Ames’ ministrations. He should know, he stitched up the wound on his thigh inflicted by none other than himself half a week prior, and fixed up the one on his shoulder nearly a month old to boot, stitches exactly how he had dreamed them to be.

Every flick of his wrist, every twitch under his skin, every curl of his fingers exact as if he had done it a hundred times before.

The transgenic had clung onto fevered unconsciousness as if he had been done with the entire world too, and Ames couldn’t have that. Not when Alec was his last resort, his last piece of leverage, even though he was a helluva lot more than that and Ames just had yet to say it out loud, to admit the whole goddamn pathetic truth and be done with it. 

Still, Alec had surfaced, after much demanding and screaming and the issuing of threats Ames _would_ make good on. He had been awake long enough for Ames to maneuver his destroyed jeans back on his incredibly lithe form, yet also for him to realize that they wouldn’t be going anywhere for at least a good day more, judging by how engulfed by the fever and disorientation Alec was, how out of it with the remnants of infection and pain.

So Ames had cursed the world a little more then but relented, settling the transgenic back on the sweat-soaked bed. Getting over the border and out of Seattle was going to be hard enough without having to carry Alec over the eight foot, heavily guarded, barbed wire-topped fence.

The second time Alec woke up and Ames had been ready, having cleaned up the transgenic as best he could in his sleep and having almost drunk himself to death - though luckily just unconsciousness - numerous times.

Alec was no more than groggy, not completely complaining about being given the chance to stretch his legs and get some fresh air away from that ripe motel room, but there was a hollowness in his eyes that Ames could do no more than tolerate. He sided almost wholeheartedly with his efforts of minimal pushing for the first hour or so, just until Alec got cranky enough for Ames to have reason to kick his ass again.

If he pushed Alec one way then he might lash out, stumble until Ames righted him and hoped the world might at least _once_ go his way and right itself too. Another way and Alec might fall, go tumbling down into the dirt and the filth and scarcely realized oblivion. And if he pushed Alec yet another way then he might _break_ , shatter down into little pieces that resembled nothing, and maybe Ames would stop _aching._ Chances were, he wouldn’t.  

Fuck it all, but Ames couldn’t be alone anymore.

If Alec couldn’t help him get back into the good graces of the Conclave, then he could at least help him find his son. The thing was, X5-494 was doing the Familiar way too much of a disservice by still existing, let alone making Ames’ mind stray to places he didn’t want it to go. If Alec knew how long Ames stared, how deep he _desired,_ how his every muscle and limb trembled for the sheer need of fucking Alec into a deeper form of unconsciousness into the soft bed. If he knew how his dreams drifted into heat and smoke and sheets that weren’t even a close contender against the softness of Alec’s skin, how Ames’ lips would linger on every patch he could reach, how his tongue would soak itself in the sweet saltiness of Alec’s sweat and tears, how the transgenic would cave if he pressed his fingers a little too hard into the underside of his arm, whimpering delicately, pupils blown wide but still managing to look even hungrier than Ames felt.

Even while Alec slept and fevered and couldn’t even wake himself the fuck up, it was too much like that post-coital heat that Ames had dreamed of for a month, the sort of heat that only came from a fulfilled desire of pounding Alec into the mattress for hours until neither one of them could breathe anymore.

Is this all that was left? Petty desires; pathetic needs resulting from those desires; the sharp, stabbing realization that Ames was nothing. If he didn’t hate Alec then there was nothing left in him that he recognized.

If he didn’t save Alec then he was ruining his only chance at redeeming himself. 

The ‘try to keep up’ morphed into the much more unkind ‘keep up.’ Ames was going to fight this with everything he still had left.

* * *

 

Ames sorely missed the SUV they had ditched at the motel, gratitude at walking out the stiffness in his legs well-enough appreciated at first and now aching for reprieve. In response, Ames pushed himself harder and forced Alec to do the same. They didn’t have much longer of a walk. While Ames did miss the comfort that driving provided, he didn’t regret his decision to chance jumping the fence, realizing his skepticism at being _allowed_ to leave Seattle was warranted. Even if he wasn’t questioned, Alec would be with his bloodstained clothes.

Alec managed to make it over the fence after Ames well-enough, only proving that the Familiar was far superior since he could have jumped it in his sleep. The problem was when Alec regained his balance again, taking too much time to unbend his right knee, and Ames noticed the jeans at his thigh were stained red, which meant his thigh was still stubbornly refusing to heal. 

He could smell the slight copper hint of blood, could almost taste it salty and very slightly metallic on his tongue, but he turned his head and tried to judge how capable he was at ignoring it. He should make the transgenic bring it up because he would learn a painful lesson if he slowed Ames down or fucked up his plans in any way, but there was this completely reasonable voice in his head that bid him to kneel down before Alec and take care of him. Like it was his job.

Ames chalked it up to self-preservation when he went through with it.

Bending down on one knee, with one hand he tore through the mess of Alec’s jeans and with the other rummaged through the backpack. The sutures had ruptured, blood leaking out hastily, seeping too easily through Ames’ fingers.

“You gonna wait for me to bleed out or live out your kinks with one of the guards?”

He glared up at the cocky transgenic th0ugh proceeded, keeping an ear out for the nearby patrol Alec intended. This would do no more than hold them up for a few minutes, but a few minutes here and a few there would set them back enough, causing them to slip up and get caught. Ames would much rather take his chances with the Conclave than with the remnants of the U.S. government. At least he knew the Conclave inside and out, having been raised by them longer than by his good for nothing father.

“This your plan, freak? You’re thinking your fate will be _kinder_ if the police get hold of you. Think you’ll be spared once those government goons nab your fabricated ass and start cutting you up to use as diagrams for future kids?”

Alec snorted and shifted his knee, Ames suspected on purpose. The Familiar growled, set to bite out something about how his hands were slippery enough and with enough incentive he could happily stab Alec anywhere he wanted with the needle wedged tightly between his fingers.

“You think I want to get caught and  have to explain myself getting shacked up with you? No one would ever take me seriously again.”

Ames did jab him then, but Alec only grinned and didn’t so much as yelp.

There was motion far off but close enough to his left and Ames re-bandaged Alec quickly, shoving the few remaining supplies into the backpack and pushing Alec forward. “Get moving.” The transgenic didn’t need to be told twice, though Ames managed to convince himself easily enough that the hand he kept on his uninjured shoulder was solely to ensure Alec didn’t make a run for it. The infection had set Alec back, but Ames dreaded what would be facing him when he was back to normal again. Alec was no match for him, but Ames didn’t treat difficulties kindly.

It wasn’t until an hour later that Ames felt he could relax enough to worry about backtracking to their destination. Or at the very least finding somewhere to hole up for the night, a night that was falling much too quickly around them. Shadows crowding in on them made it harder to notice Alec’s slight limp, but they did emphasize the hollowed out appearance of his cheeks: sunken cheekbones and pale, almost translucent skin; as well as the blessed absence of glittering liquid poking out from his bandage. He was holding up well enough. Another day or so and Alec would be stir-crazy if he was kept in one place for too long and without sufficient fuel.

For now, Ames enjoyed the bone-deep feel of the quiet just before the storm that would soon hit them head on.

Making Alec walk ahead of him was good for multiple reasons: keeping an eye on the transgenic to make sure he didn’t try anything; putting Alec’s sensitive hearing to good use, if he used it; and… and none of this should have meant intense staring but did. Fuck, did Ames need to get a _grip._

Ames swallowed heavily, trusted Alec to keep walking and stay quiet while he half-retreated inside his head to find the schematics that he had burned into his retinas and thus, memory. To avoid unpleasant company Ames had been forced to sway haphazardly off-course, but he knew these woods well-enough to have a _somewhat_ rough idea of where he was.

Of course, the reprieve of worrying about something other than the night patrol or Alec wasn’t to last for long.

“We gonna take a snack break soon?”

Ames opened his mouth to hiss at him to shut up, but before he could birds shot out of the trees directly to his back left. He didn’t turn in time.

The fist delivered to his cheek caught him off-guard, enough to compromise his balance before he viciously righted himself. That didn’t work out so well either, Ames’ overcompensation making him spin for a split second, hands reaching for the first thing he could grab. Unfortunately, fingernails digging into what felt like a waist, the hands gripping his throat were infinitely of more concern. Ames was _pissed_ at having been taken off-guard so easily. He grabbed one of the hands quickly trying to choke the life out of him and managed to get a good enough grip to break the wrist, but as his vision narrowed he could sickeningly see as the bone slid out of skin but the hand managed not to move an inch.

_Familiar._

They must have picked up his scent past the fence; there was no way he was being tracked before that point. _Fuck!_ All that preoccupation with Alec and expecting the transgenic to merely pick up the slack. Since when did Ames White get distracted?

There were pounding sounds and then a squish, silence where Ames clawed uselessly at any hand he could reach and cursed himself even more uselessly and tried to remember why the hell he wanted to stay in this cesspool any longer… until a shot rang out among the elongated shadows, courtesy of ever-blurring vision.

Ames dropped unceremoniously to the ground, grimacing at the bruises he could already feel forming at his throat but relieved at how quickly he could recover and get his breathing back compared to an Ordinary. He was up on his knees before he could think, up on his feet once he realized he was still alive for whatever reason. The body on the ground was barely recognizable in the dark, but Ames’ eyesight was good enough to recognize the fellow Familiar, one he didn’t think he’d ever spoken to. He took stock of the injuries within mere seconds: broken wrist, dislocated shoulder, broken ribs judging by the abrasions on the back, bullet in his head. Injuries save for the first that he hadn’t caused.

And the gun that Alec was holding was pointed at him.

 The transgenic was close enough that Ames could grab him and disarm him, even knock him out, if he wanted to. Instead, he wiped off the blood clinging to his lower lip with the back of his hand and stared at the transgenic who now held the key to death’s door. The tool to Ames’ own undoing. It didn’t matter so much how he had gotten to this point in the first place, just that he _had_ gotten to it at all. Common sense told him that if Alec was going to shoot him he would have done it already; besides, he wasn’t in the right posture for it. Ames didn’t underestimate him though, if the conflicted look on Alec’s face wasn’t proof enough.

“Alec.” He had told him that they were on a first name basis now, after all they had done to each other, so why did it seem like a betrayal to everything that he no longer was but was supposed to be?

Alec’s grip loosened on the gun and Ames tensed, ready to pounce. “I’m not…,” Alec looked torn after that, _weak_. 

And he had just saved Ames’ life. Twice if you counted the not killing him part, which Ames didn’t.

Ultimately, the Familiar let him keep the gun, deciding he felt safer with Alec having it than not.

* * *

 

Alec was tired but he kept walking, kept watching, kept trying to somehow tune back into the reality that he’d left behind. And maybe that was why he kept walking, because he was so tired and so confused and so _done_ , and if he wasn’t walking then he might just collapse on the spot and never get back up again. He’d been trying for too damn long now to snap out of this distance thing he’d been trapped in ever since White shot him and took him, wondering if there was some type of poison he had poured into that bullet. It would be typical White, except for the fact that he didn’t believe it.

At least he felt somewhat better, like his strength was returning, and he had managed to hold his own with White this afternoon. Until the setback.

He could just as easily have shot White, if he thought he was even capable of it anymore. The other Familiar was in his direct line of view once he managed to get hold of the guy’s gun, who must have mistakenly believed Alec was all too happy breaking his bones and pounding on his back to think of other, quicker alternatives. Such an easy shot, without thought or guilt or regret. White would’ve been a clean shot too, if only he had taken it.

He had tried, except trying wasn’t _doing_.

He was tired though, pushed too far and too hard today. If he felt better he would have complained all day, roused the guy a little, but as it was there was little heart, or bite, in anything he had to offer.

White eventually stopped them in front of some well-hidden cabin. It was ass o’clock and Alec hadn’t eaten in who knew how long, and he didn’t want to think about anything else but curling up in a bed somewhere and blacking the hell out. Hell, he would even curl up on a rug if it meant some shut-eye, a luxury he hadn’t even had in Terminal City. That was the first thought of Maxie and the others, and if he should feel guilt about anything it was how long it took to _remember_ them.

Without a word White settled at his back for a long second, fingers grasping the gun in Alec’s hand. The dilapidated cabin looked warm and safe and inviting enough. Alec let the gun go, hadn’t even realized White had let him keep it. He couldn’t think about it right now; his brain was so fried.

It didn’t register that White was no longer at his back, and had already moved far past him and into the house until Alec noticed the wide open side door, which seemed to serve as a front door. He figured he might as well hurry the hell up before White came back out and dragged him inside, surprised that he hadn’t already done so.

The cabin was bigger than it looked outside. The entryway was long and narrow, pitch black as Alec let his fingers glide against the walls on either side to guide him through. The living room he stepped into was massive, the soft light of several lamps making shadows of the furniture on the walls, throwing Alec slightly off-balance. The ceilings were impressively lofty, kitchen off to his right the biggest Alec had ever seen and reminding him painfully of how long it had been since he’d eaten. Despite the lamps, the room was still heavily shadowed enough so that Alec had difficulty finding out where the hell the rest of the place even was, especially where White had disappeared to.

None other cleared his throat and stuck his head out from around a corner, the rest of the place apparently hidden behind a plush looking armchair. Alec followed without protest, hoping White would be trusting enough and pitying enough to give him his own room, or at least a decent enough bed. Escaping crossed his mind for a split second, but while in top shape he might make it out the door before the Familiar’s superior speed took him down, in the shape he was in he probably wouldn’t even make it that far.

“Nice digs,” he mumbled as he picked his way across the living room.

White’s voice guided him through the darkness of the hallway he had stumbled into. “Better than that shit hole you were staying in, but don’t get used to it. We can’t stay here.” A pause long enough for Alec to wonder what White was thinking. “Not anymore. Didn’t figure they would catch up to me this fast.”

 _Me_ not _us_. Alec pondered that before shoving it aside for tomorrow. White referred to none other than the Familiars, and it wasn’t lost on Alec that he was technically the captive of one, although a lesser evil. Even that didn’t quite sit right with Alec because White had never explicitly stated that he was an _ex_ -Familiar, even though it kinda went without saying once Alec had shot one that was trying to kill White. He suspected the guy was trying to explain himself, something which Alec knew he’d never seen White do before and thought he would never hear.

Yet why else would he be stringing together that many words in less than a minute?

He could just about make him out in the doorway, realized he must have been standing there for more than a second. He figured that if he was in his right mind he would be more freaked out by the fact that White wasn’t growling at him or shoving him around. And damn was it nice not to be pushed around; even Max had done her fair share of it as there was _too_ much work to go around.

But no, Alec wanted to go back to Terminal City, right?

“We’ll stay in the same room for now, make sure you don’t get worse.”

His eyes must have been begging for a bed because with excessive huffing and puffing, making Alec want to make a joke about the guy’s age, White managed to drag a second, smaller bed into the room. Another mystery as to why the Familiar would do such a thing. Alec could have said thanks, but he wasn’t _that_ nice of a guy.

Still, he figured he should give White some acknowledgment. “There better be food next time I’m up, White.”

The click of something against his wrist stopped him cold.

* * *

 

While Ames wasn’t positive that Alec wouldn’t try to kill him again, he figured he was a helluva lot more likely to escape. Not that he had much chance of surviving given they hadn’t crossed the border into Canada yet, considering he’d most likely be captured and dissected before getting back into that toxic city his freak friends had made a reluctant, well-deserved home.

Regardless of Alec’s _actual_ chances of surviving without the uncharacteristic grace of Ames’ heart and all that other bullshit, he handcuffed the transgenic to the metal bed-frame and permanently, or at least temporarily, unloaded the gun he had just taken from him. 

Alec gave one half-hearted, playful tug on the cuff wrapped around his right wrist. “Kinky shit, huh?”

Ames should have expected he wouldn’t take it with his head bowed down. If Alec was properly brainwashed by the freaks who made him in the first place then Anes wouldn’t have to deal with this shit. He turned away from Alec’s smirk in favor of putting the empty gun on the nightstand separating both beds, plenty far away that the transgenic couldn’t reach it, and just in case slipped the magazine into his pocket. Alec huffed loudly, clearly annoyed at Ames accepting avoidance and ignoring him rather than _dealing_ with him, though he really _should_ be relieved that Ames wasn’t knocking him out and/or bruising his mouth a little so he’d think twice before talking for the next foreseeable day.

“If you’re gonna try anything then don’t wait ‘till I’m asleep. I’m no newbie to the whole breeding partners thing, but while I’m fine with non-con I’d really prefer being awake the whole time for it.”

Now that Alec was being all smart-mouthed again it gave the Familiar a much clearer perspective, allowing him to distance himself from fucking annoying desires that were supposed to stay hidden and actually weren’t supposed to exist at all. If he could just get back to how he used to be, then maybe he could actually take Alec with him and manage not to kill him in the heat of the moment. That clearer perspective, however, also caused him to step back and wonder what the hell Alec’s whole spiel about breeding partners meant, and why Alec would be so nonchalant about rape. Call Ames an unforgiving ass, but rape wasn’t even a line he would cross unless explicitly ordered to do so by the Conclave… and even then he wouldn’t be able to avoid the doubts. It had been far easier to love Wendy and make love _to_ her than force her.

Yet there was no way that he was touching the freak, let alone sleeping with him.

Right?

* * *

 

There were so many things in the world that couldn’t be explained, even more things that Ames White just didn’t care about. It was easy to do your goddamn job when you didn’t have a bunch of useless shit buzzing around your head, trying to claw and tug at the heart you weren’t supposed to have for attention, trying to slip you up. There were things Ames had to carefully consider: in what second and in which position to strike whatever incompetent asshole was next, being the route which was least likely to get him killed; and how first and foremost to fulfill his mission.

He had always been impatient, though damned to show it before his brethren, but Ames never remembered being pissed at _every single damn step_ along the way, like he had been for the last six months. Maybe it was because not one of those steps had managed to take him anywhere, but only farther away from what his whole life had been headed towards.

Part of the problem had been the damn, meddling transgenics and X5-452 being so much stronger and pissed off than he had accounted for. Still, he had fun with her… until she screwed him over.

And Alec had been tangled up in all the components of this royally fucked up mess from the very start.

X5-494 had been the first Manticore freak that Ames had actually enjoyed a conversation with. The genetic experiments who weren’t X5s were uglier than the inside of Ames’ asshole, but at least it was easy to separate them from the Ordinaries, so easy he didn’t have to think about it. How could one feel pity for something so ugly?

The X5s, on the other hand, posed a different problem that wasn’t supposed to be more difficult but was. Ames had been unaware through most of the vicissitudes of this problem, until only recently. Tell his frame of mind to a saner, far more together Ames and he would have ripped the new him apart in mere seconds. The specific issue wasn’t on the surface but deep underneath, buried in their genetic material, which meant Alec looked and felt and smelled _all too human_.

With X5-452 the distinction between pathetic human and pitiful fabrication had been clear enough, even with Alec at the start, but eventually Alec started to eat away at the Familiar’s insides until it became harder and harder to separate freak from ordinary, hated from tolerable, ugly from _ridiculously fucking beautiful._ After shooting Alec the first time ‘round it might as well have been impossible. Hiding was Ames’ style well enough: he had to hide his anger and impatience and desperation from the Conclave, who weren’t too keen on emotions and even less on displaying them. Emotions were a weakness, one thing of many that separated them from the hopeless and unnecessarily tortured Ordinaries, and Ames couldn’t afford them.

He had loved Wendy, worshiped Ray, but those things had never affected his work. They made him more powerful.

Alec, however, would only get him killed; he had been an idiot to think otherwise.

With Alec it wasn’t just attraction but doubt, doubt as to _who_ Alec really was, a factor Ames had never considered before. A factor he couldn’t _afford_ to consider until now. There was no question as to _what_ Alec was: a transgenic, a freak, someone whose purpose was so altered from the Familiars’ own that Ames would be well within his make-up to kill Alec before either of them came into being.

For the entirety of his life he had only cared about and served the Conclave, their mission as his mission and their mantra as his mantra yada yada yada. But now because of major recent fuck ups, he was being hunted down by the same people who had raised him, trained him, bred him to be everything that he was. If he thought bringing them Alec would have made a damn difference he suspected he would have done it already, yet it hadn’t taken the Familiar coming after him to know the truth. He knew it well before then: the Conclave didn’t want Alec.

They wanted Ames.

Ames Sandeman White.

Maybe they had known all along that this was what would happen, and crept behind his back biding their time with Ames being the sucker for it. After all, his father had betrayed them, gone down the wrong goddamn road and given life to _things_ like Alec, freaks Ames never had any qualms about capturing and locking away to interrogate and killing. It was his own way of saying _fuck you_ to daddy dearest, fuck you to packing up and leaving me behind and being such a goddamn _coward._ Maybe Ames had been set up to fail, the notion fitting considering he was probably not the only one laughing at this point. Except he was too much of a liability to be set free. After a bullet in his brain they could finally rest knowing their secrets were safe.

There hadn’t been a day where Ames wasn’t proud of who he was and what he’d become, hadn’t been a goddamn _second_ where he’d doubted his roles with Wendy and Ray and the bottom-feeding transgenics and the incompetent Ordinaries.

Until now.

Until Ames started to look at Alec twice, started to see how ridiculously human he was, how strong and annoying and _young and real._ It wasn’t just a sick fantasy either; fantasies were supposed to go away once fulfilled. Once Ames saw Alec again and took him and touched him again, the brief contact of skin against skin, they were supposed to go away forever and leave him the hell alone.

Yet Alec was still real no matter how much he told himself otherwise. He wasn’t some android, some test-tube hatched abomination that lacked will and purpose and therefore, meant absolutely nothing more than the dirt under Ames’ feet.

And now that the Conclave had abandoned him… what the fuck was there left to do?

The bed was like all the others since Wendy: small, vacant, cold. He tossed and turned for what felt like hours before settling on his side, the one that faced Alec, the one position he had tried and _failed_ to avoid. The transgenic’s back was facing him, arm raised slightly above his head, courtesy of the handcuffs, but that was all that could be made out in the darkness. The bed Ames had dragged into the room was small but Alec seemed even smaller, small enough that he could fit in Ames’ bed and they would never make contact.

There had been these dreams - constant fucking companions more like - where he had done nothing more than hold Alec in his arms: heated and pliant and relaxed. He tried to bring to memory that wasn’t even memory the shape of Alec, the weight of him until he reformulated the dream him because he couldn’t possibly have the _real_ him.

Maybe they could’ve lived here. With Ray. Maybe Ames could be truly happy, a happiness which he only recently just realized he had never achieved and probably never would. Could’ve fooled him all that time he was running around and doing his supposed life’s purpose.

The impatience of the dream falling away led him to move before he even realized what he was doing. He was in Alec’s bed before he dared breathe again, could only hope that he was asleep. Not like it mattered; it had never mattered before. Before Ames could do whatever the fuck he wanted and Alec cowering in fear was no different than him letting the Familiar do whatever he wanted.

He could rip Alec’s skin apart just as easily as he could touch it, could destroy him right here and move on, not be weighed down. It seemed the only option for him now.

So why was it no option at all?

Nothing and no one could stop Ames from leaning over and stroking a finger down the side of Alec’s face: eyebrow to chin, admiring his flawless skin. He couldn’t see much more in the dark and it was probably better that way, but he couldn’t push down the hunger that insisted for purchase within him. And _fuck_ , he never knew he had a heart strong enough to beat this fast.

“Dude,” Alec groaned, not stirring or opening his eyes. Ames could smother him with a pillow right damn now; Alec wouldn’t be able to slip out of the handcuffs fast enough. He could be gone in less than a minute. Ames clenched his jaw and unclenched it just as quickly. “You’re being creepy,” Alec continued. “If you wanna fuck, just say so.”

Ames swallowed down a growl and as if Alec expected it and was shocked when he didn’t deliver, sat up as much as he could with the little space Ames was providing him. Regardless, Ames didn’t move back. He didn’t say anything either, wouldn’t in case he opened his mouth and no words came out. How the fuck could he explain himself? And why the fuck did he need to in the first place? _You wouldn_ _’t need to if you weren’t such a_ freak.

“Are you gonna feed me?” Alec pouted as if the silence between them was too much to handle. “Pets have to be fed, you know, if you want to keep them alive.”

Ames welcomed the distraction by shoving at Alec’s feet, unlocking the handcuffs and vacating the bed. He turned away from the transgenic’s grin before he could reciprocate it. Since when had Alec worn down at him this much and how had he done it this fast? Enough to make Ames want to smile and laugh and playfully swat at him. Ames White didn’t _do_ playful, and he didn’t do swatting either. “Feed yourself.”

He expected Alec to follow him into the kitchen, surprised when he rummaged through the cabinets for a good five minutes without an appearance. Considering how much he thought he would have worked up an appetite, his growing worry over his situation and what he was turning into sucked the appetite right out of him.

When he gave up on the idea of food and went back to their shared bedroom, the framed picture of Ray that was supposed to be tucked away in the closet was in _his_ hands, Alec staring down at it like it held all the answers he wasn’t supposed to know. Ames was surprised that Alec had utilized the free time to go through Ames’ sparse personal belongings, the most personal of which was that picture. He was pissed at himself for not predicting it. Alec already knew about his son, about his anger at having him taken away, but Ray was still a distraction and an obsession that Ames wasn’t supposed to have in the first place. 

The Familiar grabbed the frame before Alec even knew he was in the room, froze completely at the heat that emanated from where he brushed against Alec’s arm. _Fuck,_ Alec was still sick after taking days to recover from an infected wound and a nearly infected second one, still recovering from the ensuing fever. It was a warmth that Ames wanted to bury himself in, ignore the world for a good few years or so. Alec backed away in fear and not carefully hidden enough anger, but Ames was quicker. He grabbed Alec’s arm and pulled him closer, practically smelling the remains of the fever underneath his skin.

There was no way in hell he should be _this_ intoxicating.

Alec somehow turned enough - though of course Ames was too distracted to pay attention - to grab onto the back of Ames’ neck and twist the Familiar until he was no longer holding onto him. Ames went after him again, clearly not knowing any better, but Alec blocked his hand and delivered a swift - not quick if Ames was on top of his game but quick enough now that Alec had compromised him and Ames had clearly just as much allowed it to happen - undercut to the underside of Ames’ chin, dazing him enough for Alec to take several steps back. Ames still progressed though, surprised when Alec met him halfway and lashed out again, managing several sharp jabs to Ames’ ribs before his adversary restrained him, one hand wrapped securely around Alec’s waist and the second looped as loosely as he could manage across his throat.

That was the first dance since Ames had fallen in love, so off the fucking radar that it shouldn’t even be a possibility.

Ames loosened the hand around Alec’s throat and he ducked out from his hold, hands clenched as if daring Ames to take hold of him again, maybe even knock him out. Ames just stared, at the white shirt that clung too well to the curve of Alec’s body that wasn’t even technically human, at the transgenic’s slightly parted lips, at the way he held himself as if there was little holding him back.

And fuck, Ames just didn’t want to fight it anymore.

He wanted Alec like he was a fever under his skin, far more potent than the physical one currently lingering in the transgenic. He wanted Alec like he couldn’t get enough oxygen, couldn’t sleep unless he was in Ames’ arms. Couldn’t do this… he guessed _live_ anymore if Alec wasn’t there. It was fucked, it was the most vile thing old Ames could have imagined, but he wasn’t _that_ Ames anymore. Maybe be was weaker, but maybe he was stronger too, because looking at Alec right now and knowing beyond a doubt that Alec was his… it made Ames White feel like he could take on the whole goddamn world all at once. And he had never felt that before. A planet-sized ego would have gotten him killed long ago.

Alec seemed unsettled by the way Ames was looking at him, but oddly enough he ignored it in favor of pointing at the picture now left discarded on the hardwood floor. “You want me to help find him, right?” Not even out of breath from before, so goddamn strong that Ames couldn’t remember anymore why he had fought so long and so hard. “I’ll do it. As partners.”

A month ago and Ames would have laughed at the idea, a week ago and he would have raged against it. An hour ago and he might have believed it but not agreed to it. Not that he was necessarily agreeing to it now.

He didn’t try to touch Alec again as he picked up the photograph and handed it back to Ames, didn’t even speak his agreement as Alec turned away, slipped past him and _left_ the room if Ames didn’t know any better. _More like fleeing._  

As he put the frame on the table, he had a sinking feeling that he would never forget anything when it came to Alec.

* * *

 

It would be nice if Ames didn’t have to worry about Alec escaping once they crossed the border, but the truth was that there were even more places for him to run to. So many wooded, forsaken places that would provide infinitely more cover than Transgenic City.

Because, of course, Ames wasn’t supposed to trust Alec. Why the hell would a transgenic agree to find his mortal enemy’s son?

They stocked up on food and clothes and maybe even resolve for the next two days, as long as Ames could afford. While the cabin he had quietly purchased nearly a decade ago was hidden enough to provide them cover for a few days, the Familiar didn’t want to overstay his welcome. The Conclave would catch up to him again sooner or later, and Ames doubted he’d get away so cut and dry next time.

Alec had been stir-crazy to leave since the second day, restless and bored, but there was a certain reluctance in his eyes when the door closed behind them and the two headed out into the woods again. As if he knew he would never come back, never be safe again. Ames didn’t place much stock in places to live in, his home had been Ray and Wendy and he had to do what he could to get the only one he could back, but it didn’t take Ames long to realize how Alec had never had a home like he had.

The playground of experimentation that Manticore had provided. The cesspool that had been Transgenic City. Transgenics were nothing if not resilient, yet as tough as Alec was there was a vulnerability written all over his face if one took the time to look deep enough, a tremor of the limbs reflecting fear and a flicker in the eyes betraying more of the same. Ames had never wasted the energy to look before, saw it well-enough the first time he had threatened his puny little existence with the exploding tracker embedded in his worthless hardware. And it would have been like blowing apart a robot… back then.

Now it was all he could see: the disappointment, the fear, some encroaching numbness as if Alec already knew the end of the road and was resigned to it. It would be better for Ames that way: if Alec didn’t care anymore then he wouldn’t try to run, wouldn’t try to stay alive.

But until Alec helped him find Ray he would survive, Ames would make damn well sure of that.

Alec walked ahead of him now; distractions were the last thing he needed.

 _I_ _’m coming, Ray._

* * *

 

The walking Alec was used to, even the silence. Neither of them really talked, which was odd since Alec usually liked to talk his head off, having about a million and one things to say. And once you got Ames on a tangent it was hard for him to stop. Lately though, he had been feeling _off._ And not in the good way either. At first he thought it had just been the disinterest in biting White’s head off, the numbness despite - and maybe even given - his current situation. Until he caught himself looking at the guy, and he didn’t mean _just_ looking. _Just_ in the way that that’s all he seemed to do, but people didn’t just look at other people like that unless there was a reason, not even just history but something deeper.

He hadn’t thought about Rachel in a while now, _hadn_ _’t_ wanted to because of the ache there in his gut, like some gaping hole.

Alec knew what love was and he _hated_ it, hated that it tore at your muscles and veins and your sanity and your capacity for love in the first place. That raw agony, that sticky need, the need for something _more_ that you could inhale and that became everything you were even though you didn’t know you needed it in the first place.

Rachel’s death had been his fault and maybe this was his punishment: loving someone who would kill him in only a matter of time.

But this wasn’t love, this was just staring and pretending not to stare and turning away when the one person you were staring at looked at you in the exact same way. _You_ _’ve only had it once before, and you won’t even give it a name because you don’t want it again._

Alec couldn’t want this wouldn’t want this shouldn’t have this didn’t deserve it. Except that he did want this, whatever the hell _this_ was, even knowing where it would lead.

The last time he opened his mouth nothing good had come of it; didn’t matter, since he didn’t quite get the chance to do anything this time. Ames grabbed his arm and pushed him up against a tree, eyes boring into his own in warning just in case he decided to talk. Alec shut down everything and focused.

There was movement far behind them but _there_ , a ripple in the air, more felt than heard. Alec didn’t even dare breathe. He thought they hadn’t been making any noise but he wasn’t sure; he figured White was, considering they were hiding instead of running. White breathed cold air against his neck, hand never leaving his shoulder, squeezing every few seconds to wait. Not like Alec needed to be told that.

He really was fucked now, because it was Ames White or nothing.

The movement was gone after several minutes, having moved far off to their left. “Double back?” Alec barely whispered, rubbing his shoulder just as soon as White released it. The Familiar nodded, and even though it had been what Alec expected his insides still somersaulted inside his tightened chest. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to stay at the cabin, it was that he knew they wouldn’t survive there. Even if surviving out here was just as slim of a chance. This had been their one shot at getting over the border, and now that _they_ knew where White was headed they had no chances left. “I’m sorry,” he tried, because he felt awkward and cold and even really damn sorry for letting his stomach overrule his head before, which was something he knew he shouldn’t be feeling toward the guy, no matter what had happened to put him here.

White swore under his breath but there was no hesitance before he spoke. “It’s okay, it’s not your fault. It’s _mine._ I should have left fucking _ages_ ago.”

Alec’s heart nearly stopped at the words; had he just detected forgiveness and gentleness in his tone?

Damn, he must be dreaming.

“Ames?” Alec reached out. The recipient of his worry was already walking away, back toward the cabin in a direction that was luckily away from the Familiar that hunted them. Although, who knew how many lurked in these woods? Alec shivered and followed, waiting for Ames to respond, which he never did. Minutes of mulling it over and he realized he had actually said the guy’s _name_ , and for the first time too. Hell, he hadn’t even _thought_ his first name before tonight. Truth be told, he didn’t exactly know why he had said his name either, suspected he just wanted recognition for whatever lame reason that - now that he had put himself on the spot - he miraculously _couldn_ _’t_ come up with.

Ames… _White_ turned slightly as if making sure Alec was keeping up. Alec wondered whether it was something else. “What is it?”

“Cold,” Alec lied. He _was_ cold but it would take a hell of a lot more than just _cold_ to affect him, and he wasn’t the only one present who knew that, which put him even more on the spot. For once, he was happy to be a transgenic; then again, if he wasn’t a transgenic then he wouldn’t even be here.

“It is going to get a lot colder once we cross the border.” Alec bent his head down, brought up his shoulders to try to stave off the cold as follow through. Ames’ hand shoved under his nose with something solid grasped between his fingers startled him. It was Ames’ coat which, now that Alec took a good look at the guy, noticed he didn’t have on anymore. “Can’t have you dying on me, freak,” Ames offered by way of explanation as if the guy ever needed to explain himself before all this, as if the guy needed to give him _anything._ Alec thought about shoving the coat back at him, even though he suspected White was even more impervious to cold than he was. Not so long ago and it would have been something to test.

He knew he was visibly shaking, and only a piece of it had to do with the quiet, cold air and the dark clouds overhead, as if the two of them were in some painting of a dreary, doomed landscape. It would make sense because as much as Alec didn’t feel trapped anymore, he still felt stuck even though it seemed entirely of his own choosing to stick around.

Then he realized the worst thing of all.

He didn’t want to go back to Terminal City, which meant that if Ames wanted to take him on some half-cocked, suicidal trip to find his son, he figured he was up for the ride.

* * *

 

Ames kept Alec close due to necessity alone. He couldn’t deny that the transgenic could slip through his fingers so easily, that that was the last thing he wanted. Alec was still leverage though, even if that wasn’t the first thought that crossed his mind. He _would_ go on, with or without Alec, but he preferred having the freak with him than doing without.

If Alec had the same idea then he wasn’t making it known. Then again, maybe Ames was putting too much stock in him, given that he had kidnapped the transgenic away from his other freak friends.

His senses were heightened now, every lick of common sense he had ever had going haywire at the idea of more of his kind out there, searching for none other than him. How the fuck he thought he could outrun them for this long he didn’t know, but it _had_ worked up until this point. But he had been right too, as much as he shouldn’t have admitted it to Alec: he should have left such a long goddamn time ago. There hadn’t been anything left for him in Seattle… except for Alec. If X5-494 hadn’t still been in that cesspool of a city then he’d be long fucking gone by now and he would have never looked back.

Now it was all he could do not to look back and regret, not to sink his teeth into Alec already and get all this revolting sexual attraction out of his system.

Except for the fact that it might not work, might not achieve a damn thing except make him more horny, more forgiving, more susceptible to anything the transgenic would try to pull on him. More goddamn mesmerized.

Alec stopped in his tracks this time, clearly hearing something Ames had just _stupidly_ missed. He was about to hiss _what the fuck is it?_ before cursing at himself to shut the fuck up and glare at Alec again. Honestly, he didn’t think he could do anything but glare at this point, unless he wanted to shove Alec up against the nearest tree and fuck him senseless. Not that he wasn’t into that sort of thing from time to time, as much of a distraction as it could be, but he was still clinging onto the mindset of ‘not in a million years with a _freak._ ’

Alec signaled to the nearest tree and Ames cocked an eyebrow before realizing that he was telling him to shield himself. He thought to glare again, but the sharp sound of a twig snapping right behind him caught him off guard enough for him to whirl around in the space of a millisecond, not wanting to get caught off guard _again._ It was a fucking miracle that uncharacteristic sloppiness hadn’t gotten him killed yet.

The twig hadn’t snapped from movement though, which meant they hadn’t been found… yet.

No. It was the rest of Ames’ world that had literally gone up in flames.

“No,” he breathed before he could stop himself. _Bastards. No._

He had built that cabin as a just-in-case, though after the transgenics had managed to royally fuck up everything for him, he had thought of it as nothing less than a potential home for him and Ray as soon as he found his son. He would bring him back here and they would live there until they were found out and had to run. Ames thought he had ruined it by bringing the transgenic here, but seeing the wondrous look on Alec’s face, paired with the disappointment when they ran, he saw it as even more of a safe haven. As the best possible home he could achieve since the whole mess with Wendy. Since Wendy had run and made it harder to do what he needed to do.

And now that home was being burnt to cinders right in front of him.

Alec was far ahead of him and running before he even registered it, and even then he didn’t move, not as Alec neared the flames that had already reached the chimney and the pitch soaked sky, not as Alec gave them away with each passing second out in the open, even with the fire obscuring his figure more by the minute.

No, he didn’t move until he realized why Alec was running, where he was going, what the fuck he thought he was doing. Didn’t move until he realized he gave a damn enough to not want to watch Alec _burn._

Too late.

He started running, stopped, looked around briefly to ensure they were alone once outside the cover the trees provided. He didn’t get a chance to run again, to scream Alec’s name before the smoke closed off his throat forcefully, yet even as he bent over and tucked his mouth against his arm to try to catch a breath, even as he knew it was too late, his head moved up, and even with his eyes burning he watched as the fire swallowed the cabin, and Alec along with it.

* * *

 

Some force of will sent him sprawling forward, stumbling away from the worst patches of the smoke even though he could barely tell anymore. Every thought screamed at him to turn back, to run, even if he wouldn’t get far in either direction he could go, but there was a deeper and infinitely brighter thought to move forward, a scream in his head so forceful and resounding that he couldn’t dare argue.

He had reached the door, the weathered knob emanating too much heat for his skin to handle unprotected. Without even registering it he gathered up as much material of his sweater that he could and opened it…

And was rewarded with a chest full of Alec, nearly knocking him to the ground.

He grasped at Alec’s arms, fingernails digging into unprotected, heat-soaked flesh, and dug his heels into the ground to keep them both upright. He groaned, panted, but he knew something was wrong when Alec didn’t make a sound.

He knew Alec had gone after the photograph, but there still wasn’t a why. There wouldn’t be for a while either, Ames grimaced, as he noticed the hot red marks around Alec’s wrists, hands shaking and fingers twitching violently though managing not to drop the small, now frame-less photograph. Ames took it and put it away for safekeeping. He wrapped his arms around Alec’s waist and dragged him away, not stopping until they were back in the woods, not stopping until Alec could barely hold himself up anymore and it was clear he needed to take a five minute break.

Ames wanted to scream at him then: _what the fuck were you doing!_ and _if I hadn_ _’t come after you what would have happened then!_

Instead he ripped off two strips of fabric - the cleanest he could find - from his shirt and wrapped them around Alec’s angry red wrists quickly and without much thought, protection from infection the most pressing issue. He didn’t want to look at them, even more didn’t want to look at Alec’s soot soaked face, eyelashes fluttering as he adjusted to the worst of the pain. A resilient son of a bitch, as if the Familiar hadn’t known that intimately already. Still, he was staring again, when Alec wasn’t registering a damn thing.

He didn’t say anything, didn’t drag him up and away until Alec gave him the signal to proceed, barely a signal at all. Didn’t once glare.

Ames could still smell Alec underneath the soot and underneath the pine coated forest and underneath the distinct aromas of death and decay.

And _fuck_ , but he was _still alive_.

* * *

 

Ames examined the bandages on Alec’s wrists to keep the screaming in the waiting room firmly in the background. Alec was quiet but eventually the Familiar tuned out the world around him, enough so it wouldn’t make a difference whether Alec was screaming or silent. It also could have been that his uncharacteristic silence since he had picked Alec up - and especially _now_ \- was unnerving him, fraying on his already dour nerves. Considering that the burns were second degree - because Ames _did_ know enough about burns - the transgenic should be whimpering or at least shifting restlessly in his seat, even complaining about sitting on their asses for - Ames checked his watch - nearly two hours now.

Medical care just wasn’t what it had been.

And Ames knew a thing or two, though mainly to avoid hospitals at all costs. The places were nothing less than death traps. You got nothing but staff asking their damned intrusive questions and treating you like a goddamn criminal if something didn’t add up or they smelled so much as a half-lie on you. Hell, the very same doctors and nurses who were to supposed to _help you_ could get a whole squad of cops right to your location before you could even fill out your entire name on triplicates.

Except Ames didn’t have a fucking _choice_ : there was no way he was messing around with burns or dealing with the chance of infection in the very near future. He had plenty of medical know-how to fix just about anyone and anything, but second degree and higher burns were one thing you didn’t even stop to consider _fixing_ on your own. Sure, he had cleaned the burns as best he could in a gas station bathroom, applying bandages liberally, but once the swelling went up and the skin started to look a tinge white he said _fuck it_ and hauled ass to the nearest hospital.

Yet just as Ames didn’t belong here, they were also at the last place Alec should be because Ames knew that his blood was essentially a death sentence. A bright red target for the unexplainable and reportable.

So Ames tuned it all out, didn’t have much of a choice otherwise. He should be paying attention to who was coming in and going out of the place, memorize every single face and issue everyone in here had, but he figured Alec needed a distraction from the pain just as much as Ames needed a distraction from the world and not ripping everyone who was crying or screaming or making a single sound to shreds.

The bandages at Alec’s wrists were already mangled, enough that Ames should have thrown them out, but he figured they were a welcome alternative for Alec’s skin instead of resting against the rough, filthy denim of his jeans.

It was when Alec shifted impatiently that he realized he had been talking to him. Ames’ head tilted up, honing in on an eye-roll that looked more like a tremor of pain. He managed to make out the sentence by reading the transgenic’s lips before his brain kicked in to do as it was told.

“You should go.”

Ames growled as another waiting customer almost bumped into him, glared at the fifty-something year old man when he tried to sit down in the seat next to Alec’s. Luckily, the guy got the hint and scampered off before Ames could rip him a couple of new assholes. “No way in hell,” Ames settled on. He shot an impatient glance at the window at the woman who was probably paid to look busy, and continued holding the bandages lightly against Alec’s bright red, moist wrists.

“If they catch you they’re going to kill you on sight, you _know_ that. If they catch me, well…,” Alec shrugged, seemed to regret the motion as it clearly traveled down to his wrists and his face pinched in pain. “They _probably_ won’t kill me, not when they can run a bunch of their whack-job tests on me.”

“I’m not leaving,” Ames forced out, and while he figured the clenched teeth and near growl could be viewed as a warning, the split-second of shock and even relief that crossed Alec’s face proved it was possessiveness more than anything else. He wanted to refute it with everything he had, even shut out the world again for a while, but Alec was losing his resolve while Ames willingly spaced out to distance himself from his own, and the Familiar couldn’t check out again.

He glanced around, trying to take in as much as he could before moving closer to Alec, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him closer as the minutes passed and the chairs filled up and he could no longer protect the vacancy of the chair next to the transgenic’s. Alec was still jostled as personal space evaporated, bit down on his bottom lip until blood welled up and he bit down even harder. Fuck, Ames couldn’t stand these places, all packed in barely able to draw in a decent breath, the air smelling more like death than antiseptic, breeding grounds for fuck-ups and infections, and the two of them right smack dab in the middle of the chaos.

Alec surprisingly held out for another half-hour before he started trembling with pain, and while what seemed like a long time ago it would have been a beautiful sight to see, now it just physically hurt like something with sharp, jagged teeth was gnawing on Ames’ bones. He took more of Alec’s weight, managing to cover the burns with the one long strip of bandage he had left.

Ames bit down on his lip and watched Alec start to go into what looked like shock: sweating, breathing more raggedly, swaying slightly. He hated being useless. He was never useless _period._ But screaming would only bring unnecessary attention to themselves. Not like he had to tell Alec that, given that up to this point the transgenic had been hard-pressed to show any sign of discomfort, let alone pain.

 _What a fucking setback._ They probably could have been out of the country at this point.

He could leave. Alec could take care of himself. They would get caught if he stayed.

But no, the two of them needed to stick together. The fire just proved that.

“I’m fucking _starving_ ,” he grunted under his breath. “Want something out of the machine if I can find one?” Alec didn’t respond; Ames figured he probably couldn’t, but he still arranged for a can of grape soda and a bag of chips.

Finding the damn machine was another matter. He must have wandered through the same hallway at least five times before spying one crammed next to a closed door to what looked like a janitorial closet. Jamming dollars into the machine took even longer, and he quit after two cans of grape soda and one bag of chips. He wasn’t hungry anyway.  A moment to himself was what he _did_ need. The floor looked inviting enough, so he sat down on the tile and cracked open one of the cans, downing it in half a dozen quick swallows before tossing it in the trash. He’d been alone for three and a half goddamn weeks, but since he’d shot Alec and dragged him away to help him find Ray and/or turn him over as leverage, he and Alec had been practically glued together out of necessity.

Necessity that shouldn’t have had anything to do with the incapability of being alone anymore.

There had been moments of silence, yes. Moments where he had lost the last ounces of sanity he considered himself to still possess. Silence he could still handle though, lying awake while Alec slept in the other bed, as long as he was there at all.

He could still _feel_ Alec, judging by the tingling in his fingers, the rapid pulse of his heart. He had been so certain he would lose Alec in that fire, he hadn’t even hesitated before he jumped smack dab in the middle of it. So stupid, so goddamn _stupid_ that he couldn’t even recognize himself anymore. Except he could. That possessiveness had always been _his_ , toward Ray especially. It was just in the one place it shouldn’t be. And even that was refuted as he felt Alec in his arms, tremors coursing through his body, small and in agony and Ames hadn’t even been able to control _that._

It made a guy look bad. It made a guy want to break the fucking _world_ in two. 

After five minutes of doing nothing but ignoring Alec, the pull to the transgenic was too strong in the end. He could label it as an investment to protect, anything that got him up and walking again. Either way Alec was _his._

The waiting room hadn’t changed: kids screaming their heads off while parents looked off into the distance with glazed over eyes; teenagers moaning in pain like the world was crumbling to bits around them. Fuck them all. If anyone’s world was being cleaved into a multitude of bloody pieces it was Ames’.

The other half of the equation _had_ changed. On first instinct Alec was gone, but he didn’t believe it before scanning the room several times over and finding nothing to contradict that statement. It would have been so easy: to take Alec, to drag him away as if he had never been there at all. It would have been easy for Alec to slip away too, as much pain as he was in. For some reason, his mind moved past that last one pretty quickly. Not that it mattered.

Alec was gone… and the whole _goddamn_ world that saw fit to fuck him over at every opportunity crumbled in one swift moment, making what he hadn’t eaten today rise to the back of his throat and almost sending him down to his knees.

And then a nurse managed to grab his attention. “Sir?”

 The Familiar turned and saw a short, middle-aged nurse with graying hair holding a clipboard, Alec shifting restlessly right behind her. And the world was pieced back together, slowly, painfully, and Ames wondered how much more he could take of this. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to pull it the fuck together and not show even an ounce of how panicked he had been. Alec looked pretty out of it, so Ames doubted he could tell much of anything.

“If you come with me…,” the nurse continued, eyes scanning over the clipboard, “I can fix up your friend in no time.” _Friend_ , Ames almost laughed. _More like captive. More like_ thing _I am so completely obsessed with I should shoot myself right damn now before I embarrass myself anymore than I already have._

Ames nodded and followed without a word. 

Too late to turn back.

* * *

 

They were out two and a half hours later.

Antibiotics weren’t recommended, and Ames wasn’t going to squander the money he needed to find Ray on extra painkillers. He wasn’t completely heartless; however, tossing Alec a bottle of ibuprofen and telling him to use the pills sparingly. Nothing lost between the two of them, considering Alec didn’t even take what Ames offered.

He hijacked the most durable looking vehicle in the small lot quickly, remembering to open the door for Alec since burned and healing wrists meant that hand movement would be limited. Not for long, considering transgenics healed relatively fast. Dealing with a hurt Alec only made him feel uncomfortable, only made him think about things he shouldn’t be thinking about.

He shut the door once Alec was half-upright in the passenger seat and thought about making it known that he wasn’t Alec’s butler _or_ chauffeur, but pinched features and eyes slipping shut before quickly opening again stopped him short. Not long enough for Alec to see that something gave him pause, that something had made him freeze in place and just _stare_ , but long enough that the words still rang through the Familiar’s head five minutes later.

 _Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. What the_ fuck _is wrong with you?_

He drove, cursing inwardly whenever he caught his hands clenching around the steering wheel. Even his own body was betraying him now, as if taunting him that he could no longer keep these revolting thoughts inside, no longer hide.

Alec glanced over at him, green eyes wide and wet, wrists heavily bandaged and lying uselessly in his lap. His lips were so pink and so full, freckled cheeks more noticeable now as they laid like stars over pale, clammy skin. Even so small he looked like tightly coiled up energy, and everything about him took Ames’ breath away… literally.

And Ames White just couldn’t take it anymore.

He pulled over before he could get either of them killed, remembering nothing save for the arm looped around Alec’s throat, Alec turning away from him. The ‘you should go,’ the ‘they probably won’t kill me,’ and the ‘they’ll kill you on sight.’

Within seconds he was out of the vehicle and darting through the trees, never once glancing behind him, shutting that world behind him forcefully _away_ and wondering whether he should lock it. He didn’t need to catch his breath, not really, but it was something else inside him that made him stop and take his frustration out on the nearest tree with bruising knuckles. He blocked out the sound of footsteps and the annoying chirps of birds but couldn’t manage what should have been the simplest thing in the world: blocking out the transgenic in his periphery.

 _Fuck,_ he’d never be able to again.

He was on the ground then rather than the alternative, fingers clawing at the dirt, trying to draw in a decent breath. Fuck, he never got winded like this, didn’t think he ever could. Alec hovered and it made everything so much worse, just him kneeling next to Ames, shock written all over his delicate, so _young_ features. After a point, Ames couldn’t take it anymore.

He grabbed the collar of Alec’s shirt and tugged until Alec was on top of him, which didn’t really help the breathing much, but pulling in oxygen was made even worse when he shoved his mouth against Alec’s. He put everything into that one damn kiss: his desperation for Alec to not push him away, all that built-up desire and affection finally made whole. Alec, broken and confused and beautiful. And maybe Ames had been taking advantage… until Alec’s mouth started moving fervently against his own.

And maybe that was what made him breathe again, the kick in the lungs he needed.

It was romantic enough, until Alec slugged him and told him: “Never do that again.” 

And Ames smiled when Alec’s back was turned.

**FIN**


End file.
